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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23353318">Know if I go (I’ll die happy tonight)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/selohtun/pseuds/selohtun'>selohtun</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I hope, Jaskier is human and that scares Geralt, Look at them talking about things, M/M, Mentions of Death, but there is still a bit of, just figured I should tag that, no one dies don’t worry, once again kinda new to this, still figuring out how to write pure fluff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 10:07:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>612</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23353318</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/selohtun/pseuds/selohtun</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaskier is a human. Geralt does his best not to think about it too much. Sometimes, though, he can’t help himself.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>80</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Know if I go (I’ll die happy tonight)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello. I tried to write fluff. Emphasis on tried. It’s mostly worried Geralt and very sleepy Jaskier. </p>
<p>(I wrote this while listening to Lana Del Rey, is that obvious?) </p>
<p>Title is from “Summertime Sadness” by Lana Del Rey.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Right now, it’s quiet. The world is still, other than a soft breeze that rustles tree leaves, makes the grass shake gently. The moon hangs high above them, and Jaskier is asleep, half curled around Geralt. One of his legs is thrown over the Witcher’s middle, and his arms is pinning Geralt down. He could get up, untangle them, but he finds himself unable to. Instead, he watches as the bard’s chest rises and falls, slow and steadily. </p>
<p>Geralt doesn’t believe in much, in terms of Destiny and her designs. But here, now? He could fool himself into belief. They fit so well together, perfect pieces made for one another, forever and always. Geralt forces his eyes up towards Jaskier’s hair, forcing in a breath at soft flecks of gray and white. It doesn’t feel like it’s been that long, from a young bard to the one Geralt sees now. He brings one hand up, gently from his bard’s side, running his fingers through the soft hair. Jaskier doesn’t stir, instead, he brings himself closer, somehow still possible. His head is tucked into the crook of Geralt’s neck, and the Witcher can feel his breath on his neck, soft and silent. Geralt does his best not to think about the gray, instead, he focuses on the moon, the silver light that shines onto them. For now, they are here. They are together, and that’s what matters. </p>
<p>He’s always been told that Witchers don’t feel. He’s always believed it, told himself that’s how it’s meant to be, to walk the Path alone. But with only the moon to judge him, he doesn’t lie to himself. Jaskier will age, will leave him. The thought makes his gut clench in a way that Geralt didn’t think possible. His fingers in the bard’s hair slow, and he rests his hand on the crown of Jaskier’s head instead. Jaskier makes a soft sound, eyes blinking slowly, looking up to Geralt with soft eyes. <br/>“What’s wrong?” He whispers, eyes still foggy from sleep. <br/>“You’ve got gray hair.” <br/>“Oh. Really?” Geralt takes a strand of gray, rubbing it between two fingers. He hums in response, and Jaskier frowns. <br/>“What’s wrong?” <br/>“You’re aging.” The words are out before Geralt can stop himself, and they make his gut clench again, in a feeling he realizes might be some sort of fear. It feel cruel to say out loud, as if the words make it more true than it already is. <br/>“That’s how humans work, correct.” Jaskier sits up slightly, leg still thrown over Geralt’s chest. He lays his head back down, next to Geralt’s head now. Jaskier’s hand comes under his chin, making the Witcher face him. Jaskier presses a soft kiss to his lips, smiling gently. Up this close, Geralt can see the beginnings of wrinkles, creased lines stuck to the bard’s skin. He frowns, and Jaskier sighs, cupping his cheek.<br/>“We wasted so much time.” <br/>“We did, yes. Now we have time to make up for it.” Jaskier kisses him again, longer, but still soft and sweet. Geralt can feel his lips turn into a smile against his own. “I’m here. If you think you can get rid of me so easily, you must not know me as well as you think,” Jaskier whispers, even though there is nothing anywhere near them. He pulls away, and shifts himself back into the crook of Geralt’s neck. He presses as kiss where his neck meets his shoulder, snuggling his head until the top of it presses lightly into Geralt’s chin.<br/>“I’m here.” He adjusts his leg, pulling it closer to his chest, and places his hand into Geralt’s hair. <br/>“I’m here.”</p>
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